News From Wicked


“Hey Eerie I’ve got a letter from wicked.  She wants to know about the soundness of your mind.  Are you going to tell her or should I.”

“Pray tell, Mischievous.  What would you tell her?”

“I would tell that your mind is like a sound check before a stadium concert.  One two, one two, check, check, interspersed with a lot of feed back.”  Mischievous laughed then passed me the fried toad skins.

“Thank you Mischievous.  I think that the nicest thing you’ve said to me since I got us into this mess.  Take down this response to Wicked, you can drop off when you go check on my muse.”

Dear Wicked,

Thank you so much for the letter.  As you know my zombies are Free Range, with no added hormones.  Sunny advised me that the hormones were not healthy.  In order to provide a quality product some sacrifices have to be made.  It’s nice to see the Swamp Thing is back to her old self since she kicked the swamp gas.  I was sorry to hear that Hippy left town, as you said he’ll land on his feet, but the zombies will miss his brains.  As far as our muses are concerned I hope the Whip-Mistress can–

“Eerie, check it out. is that a Hummer on steroids coming up the mountain?  That troll better get out of…ouch that’s going to hurt tomorrow.  Who do you think it is?  I can’t see anything through those tinted windows.”

“Watch out!   It’s coming right at us.  Run.”  Grabbing the plate of toad skins I leap.

The drivers window slides down noiselessly.  ”Hey stupid, it’s me, let’s go.  I’ve got a date.”

The signature red plaid shirt never looked so good.  ”You’re a sight for sore eyes, but what’s she doing here?”  I nod my head at the female sitting next him.

“She’s holding the flask while I drive.  I can’t steer up these hills, run down trolls and hold the flask.  I might spill it in my new rig.  What do you think of my new ride, sweeeet huh?”

“Yeah it’s nice.  You didn’t spring for the fifty caliber machine gun, I see.”

“Wrong again. I ordered the after market version with the heat sensor auto sighting and a laser guided surface to surface missile launcher.  They’re back ordered, should be in this week.  Enough with the idle chit-chat.  I’ve got places to see, things to go, and people to do.”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?  Why did you have to bring her?  She scares me.  And I don’t like the way she’s eyeing Mischievous.  She looks hungry don’t they serve food at the Fillet Your Own?  You should feed her before you bring her out.”

“You know I can hear you Shorty.”She tips a flask to her lips and passes it.  ”And I don’t like to be kept waiting, so get in or walk.”

“Who’re you calling Shorty?  You don’t buy your clothes at the Big and Tall shop.  Don’t you have something else you should be doing anyway?  I heard Wicked is looking for you.

“She’ll find me when I’m ready to be found and not before.  Not that it’s any of your business.”  She ran one finger along the sharp edge of a long knife as she spoke.

“Right then.  I’ll just g, ge, get in the back.  Come on Mischievous.”

“You’re on your own. I’m not riding with her.  I’ll see back at the swamp.”  With a graceful leap and a flap of his onyx wings he soared on the wind.

“I hope I see him back there.  I’ll leave you with this appropriate quote from Edgar Allen Poe.”

“But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Write On,

Eerie

Happy Halloween!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, EVERYONE!

The Haunted Palace

by Edgar Allen Poe

In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace -
Radiant palace – reared its head.
In the monarch Thought’s dominion -
It stood there!

Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow,
(This – all this – was in the olden
Time long ago,)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A wingèd odor went away.

Wanderers in that happy valley,
Through two luminous windows, saw
Spirits moving musically,
To a lute’s well-tunèd law,
Round about a throne where, sitting
(Porphyrogene!)
In state his glory well befitting,
The ruler of the realm was seen.

And all with pearl and ruby glowing

Was the fair palace-door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.

But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch’s high estate.
(Ah, let us mourn! – for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him desolate!)
And round about his home, the glory
That blushed and bloomed
Is but dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

And travellers now, within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms, that move fantastically
To a discordant melody,
While, like a ghastly rapid river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever
And laugh – but smile no more.